Love: Forlorn, immaculate, impossible and imperceptible

The Brook

I come from haunts of coot and hern,
   I make a sudden sally
And sparkle out among the fern,
   To bicker down a valley.

By thirty hills I hurry down,
   Or slip between the ridges,
By twenty thorpes, a little town,
   And half a hundred bridges.... - Alfred Lord Tennyson

So is life. 

Forlorn, for till you attain, there is only sadness..
Immaculate, for I couldn't find anything purer..
Impossible: Didn't you see it from the beginning?
Imperceptible, for if it was, it wouldn't be as forlorn..


For you can love without being loved.. and that doesn't make it any dearer

Fiction

Foreword

Its funny what classical music does to your brain. Fiction has always been farthest from my mind. But I couldn't just let go of this chain of events, completely random and fictional that set into motion this post. I love this format because I can continue if I want to or just leave it here. Both will make it interesting in its own way.

Title Here

Chapter 1

The aroma of dosai and sambar wafted in. Is this what they call food nostalgia? There was no way of course that there could be dosai or sambar here, at 6:30 AM on the platform. Which platform? That was obvious, it was always the same train. Which compartment? Ok it might seem impossible to cover all the platforms during rush hour to look for someone getting into the train. But therein lies the catch, our train had only a single women’s compartment. That she will use only the women’s compartment was a highly intuitive wager on which the odds were not good. But that’s all I had going. Hell, I had taken a week off from work. No one at home knew I had done that. I had to establish a pattern. Of course, knowing where she lived would be too much. I couldn’t fathom the consequences. And of course knowing where she worked couldn’t be harmless, but did I want to risk it? All these strange thoughts were making me excited, akin to the hyper-caffeinated manner. I never liked the sensation when I chose dark roast by mistake at work. The rest of the day was doomed. Too twitchy, you feel like the heart is ready to burst out of the rib cage, seems like eye balls are going crazy, even when you just stare at the screen. Can’t read, have to tap the floor until the guy in the next cubicle looks at you. He is too polite. That’s all he will do. Just smile at you. I hate people who took “Lage raho” to heart. Just simply hate people who wish you in the elevator without even knowing you. Just simply hate the need to thank people for doing their duty. Hate the fact that I can’t swear when I want just because I don’t have my own room at work. But you know what I hate the most? The fact that I conform anyways. No free will, no ability to make change happen. I am just a worm in a huge container of flour. I can eat, reproduce and die, hopefully if they don’t use the flour long enough. Don’t sieve it or worse, don’t cook it. Parma understood this, used to heal it with Zen. I have no real clue what Zen means. I tried to read a book when I was young. “Zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance”: couldn’t go beyond 40 pages. But it was about something about reconciliation, of the way to anneal contradictions while acknowledging their presences. That’s what Parma did. You are a “flour worm” and butterfly at the same time. Funny Parma chose butterfly. I love it at several levels. Of course just the beauty and flight lend it romance. And the metamorphosis: that’s the best. I could see myself there. Born as a wretch. Sleep for a while, get up as a butterfly. Lead an ethereal, perfect life, taste the honey, lay the eggs. I have no clue if Parma had this in mind. Parma just gave these pearls here and there.

Inspired

This is an impromptu post.

Out of sheer exhilaration.

The buzz you get out of extreme physical exertion is unmatched.

Except by:

1. Soul-stirring Music
2. Pure wit and sarcasm in prose

[Meme]: Untitled

I have been invited by Agila to propagate this Meme on untitled (random) abstract poetry. But a foreword.

It was around sixth standard I suppose, that while reading some novel with words that I didn't understand that I was nagging my mom for meanings of one word after another. After a couple of words, she got fed up and told me to refer to the dictionary. Alas, if she knew that she had committed an innocent act with grievous consequences. At that moment, I stopped caring what words meant though my vocabulary from then on continued growing frantically. I mean seriously. I have no clue what grievous means or frantically - I just assume some abstract meaning from hearing the phrase "grievous injuries" or "frantic pace" so many times. Or for that matter I don't know what abstract means.

So I broke down the meme: Random Abstract Poetry. I assume only one meaning for "abstract" and google reiterated it for me (This was the first hit when I wrote the post). I know poetry, of course. And knowing some math, I know what random is. So here goes (think you are rapping when you read this)

There is nothing called a "real" random number generator
They say.
But we all want one nonetheless
They say.
Here we show, Here we show
A psuedo random number generator,
that is not so psuedo
but so crudo
Just ask a kid at night
to count the stars as he might
And for each kid you pick
you get a truly random quick

Ok, so this is abstract (truly nature style: note the emphasis on "here we show", for the uninitiated, see this). Its random in two ways: its about random and it is quite random, I am surprised I was not under influence when I wrote this. And because it is random, it can be random poetry. It is difficult to refute the last point I hope.

So now I am tagging Amshuman who not only knows the meanings of the words he knows (nice play on words eh?) but also is an amazing writer!

WHY?

Why do I want to learn “Photography” or in other words learn the manual mode in a camera?

Today, I was going through a camera manual and I sensed a feeling of disdain when I looked at the “special scene settings”. The exact feeling that went through my mind was: “True photographers won’t use these settings”. Now, the real question is, did I want to become a “true photographer” or to take better pictures? Suddenly I realized the optimization the brain performs – use assumptions/stereotypes without going to their logical end, to prove if the assumption was true. Now I understand the meaning of the phrase “thinking something through”.

We require a lot of practice to spend some more time thinking. I know we have to achieve as much as possible in as little time, in other words, use “quick and dirty” methods, because increasingly the only yardstick the world uses to measure our life’s achievements is quantity and not quality. We find it increasingly difficult nowadays to measure ourselves with our own yardsticks rather than the one prevailing outside. The real challenge is to ensure that we don’t give in to the temptation of foregoing our internal standards to take shortcuts to appear cool/successful in other’s eyes.

Alchemist?

My mom wrote this poem nearly 20 years ago. She discovered it among her papers and e-mailed it to me today. As I read it, I couldn't help but notice the uncanny resemblance to the book by Paulo Coelho.

_____________________________

You run hither and thither
knocking at every door
searching everywhere

Flying high over the mountains
diving deep into the sea
seeking the unknown

chasing the mirage across the desert
Looking into the crystal glass
and the magic mirror

torn asunder by conflicting loyalties
or perhaps lack of it

Undecided Unconvinced
disturbed and perturbed

oh ! You Ignorant one
The Revelation waits to Transform you
If only you would look within yourself

Out of the world movie quotes

Shawashank Redemption:

Andy Dufresne: That's the beauty of music. They can't get that from you... Haven't you ever felt that way about music?
Red: I played a mean harmonica as a younger man. Lost interest in it though. Didn't make much sense in here.
Andy Dufresne: Here's where it makes the most sense. You need it so you don't forget.
Red: Forget?
Andy Dufresne: Forget that... there are places in this world that aren't made out of stone. That there's something inside... that they can't get to, that they can't touch. That's yours.
Red: What're you talking about?
Andy Dufresne: Hope.
______________________________________

Andy Dufresne: [in letter to Red] Remember Red, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.

______________________________________

Andy Dufresne: Get busy living, or get busy dying.

_____________________________________________________________

V for Vendetta

V: They took your parents from you. They took your brother from you.
[Evey groans]
V: They put you in a cell and took everything they could take except your life. And you believed that was all there was, didn't you? The only thing you had left was your life, but it wasn't, was it?
[Evey sobs, "Oh please...?]
V: You found something else. In that cell you found something that mattered more to you than life. It was when they threatened to kill you unless you gave them what they wanted... you told them you'd rather die. You faced your death, Evey. You were calm. You were still.
[Evey continues gasping]
V: Try to feel now what you felt then.
______________________________________

V: Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin van-guarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition.
V: The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous.
[giggles]
V: Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it's my very good honor to meet you and you may call me V.
Evey Hammond: Are you like a crazy person?
V: I am quite sure they will say so. But to whom, might I ask, am I speaking with?
Evey Hammond: I'm Evey.
V: Evey? E-V. Of course you are.
Evey Hammond: What does that mean?
V: It means that I, like God, do not play with dice and I don't believe in coincidences.

______________________________________

Evey Hammond: [voiceover] Remember, remember, the Fifth of November, the Gunpowder Treason and Plot. I know of no reason why the Gunpowder Treason should ever be forgot... But what of the man? I know his name was Guy Fawkes and I know, in 1605, he attempted to blow up the Houses of Parliament. But who was he really? What was he like? We are told to remember the idea, not the man, because a man can fail. He can be caught, he can be killed and forgotten, but 400 years later, an idea can still change the world. I've witnessed first hand the power of ideas, I've seen people kill in the name of them, and die defending them... but you cannot kiss an idea, cannot touch it, or hold it... ideas do not bleed, they do not feel pain, they do not love... And it is not an idea that I miss, it is a man... A man that made me remember the Fifth of November. A man that I will never forget.
______________________________________

Pulp Fiction

Jules: The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the iniquities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who would attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee.

_____________________________________

Ideal Friday

1. Great Movie (Ex. Usual Suspects)
2. Amazing Dinner (Wine and Cheese, Fresh Bread and Pasta, Tiramisu)
3. Catch up with Friends
4. 10 hours of Sleep!

Ideal Saturday
1. Satisfying Brunch (Eggs and Cheese, Fresh coffee, Waffles and syrup and toast)
2. Long chat with Mom
3. Music that gives a high (Maiden, Beethoven, etc.)
4. Organizing stuff
5. Read a book
6. Laze around

Ideal Sunday
1. Work on a wild idea in the morning
2. Lunch at a nice restaurant (Preferably with unlimited buffet)
3. Nice Afternoon nap
4. Start working on the forthcoming week's projects
5. Sleep early

Ordinary life: marauder of human spirit

I have grit and determination. But buried deep inside. Give me a chance, ask me to prove myself. Give me worthy opponents.

I want to fight, and win and relish the feeling of accomplishment. I am tired of enjoying these feelings vicariously.

When I see movies like the great debaters.
When I see test matches like perth 2008.
When I hear stories like that of Ambani.

Is it indoctrination, or is it my nature that I love stability?
How much should I cheat myself to challenge myself in my daily life?
Has mundane acquired a new status in my life?

Sunshine

You get up sunday morning and open the blinds, the room fills with sunshine and you think, "How happy I am to be alive to enjoy this moment"
For that moment, the past is behind, and the future unimportant, you just want to immerse yourself in nature's beauty
You are alone, and you dont need anyone else to enjoy this fleeting moment, one of the happiest moments of the day
You are so fresh and recharged, and optimistic about the day ahead.
Each moment we live is precious, a small story by itself.
In moments of sadness and pain, we have to remind ourselves of the morning and the sunshine, and how we look forward to it.
And when we feel we are not loved anymore, we just have to see the radiant sunlight, and think of the millions of miles it has travelled, just to cheer us.

Sometimes u r really amazed what ur brain goes through. Its neither happiness nor gloom. Neither euphoria nor depression. Its something really undigestable, but something u cant run away from. Life is an irony, and everyone will realise it someday or the other.

Maya

As the nomad walked in the desert, throat parched and feet covered in blisters, he saw water at a distance. At once his face brightened and a new energy seemed to come into his body. The pointless wandering in the desert was no longer pointless. He had a sense of purpose, a happiness so far unimagined and a will to live.

Those moments of the pursuit of the distant water was the highlight of his day.

As at last he reached near the water, he realised it was a mirage. All his purpose was lost. All that he believed in was just the sand and the sun playing tricks on his mind. The realisation braught him to his knees.

He never got up. It was not because of thirst. It was because, what he believed in lay shattered before him.

Life goes on...

The laughter echoes from the past, in the empty spaces of imagination,
The innocence is no longer a part of life as it promised to be,
The smile which lit up when thinking of those days is replaced by anguish,
Anguish at what could have been,

Why did life promise so much and give so little?
Why did some dreams remain dreams?
While some nightmares became reality?
Why did life falsely make us believe in the power of love?

Heart is empty,
Life purposeless,
Laughter meaningless,
Happiness alien.

Still,
Life goes on...

Be your own man

Whom are you trying to convince?

Why does the mind have an innate craving to conform and convince? Why is the mind always better off copying stuff around it?

Its a trap which the mind falls into always.

But its sooo difficult to think for oneself, much easier to follow someone's footsteps.

Probability

Probability is a strange thing. One might say that there is a 99.99 % probability of a thing not happening, but still it can happen. So is luck... to the unscientific mind, probability is luck. In this context, I dont know where destiny stands... The most interesting thing in all these is that how one percieves probability reflects his psychological state... Lets return to our 99.9% example. If for someone the probability that 99.9% something happening is favourable, still he can choose to be happy or unhappy. For, if he thinks the odds are pretty high that the event will happen(strategy a), he will be happy. If he thinks 0.01% probability doesn't rule out failure (strategy b), then he is unhappy. So then comes the issue of flexibility. If you are flexible, choosing either strategy a or b depending on the situation, then u will be either happy or sad all the time. If you are rigid, choosing one strategy always, your mood is reflected by your luck (?!).
Lets take the case of a rigid person. Wat determines his happiness? He will have no control over it. Extending the argument further, no one has control over life. So then one is prompted to think that this philosophy is fatalistic. I think early people realised the deep depression everyone will get into if they realise this truth. Hence they deviced god, hence karma, hence judgement day. Just to infuse some purpose into the chaos ruling our lives.

Satisfaction guaranteed

Every now and then (Mostly when I am depressed) I start wondering the purpose of life... To the illiterate, un-enlightened person (me in short), a good answer comes in one word : satisfaction. Satisfaction in what you do, satisfaction from the results of your action. A complexity I am not considering is the satisfaction derived from things totally out of your control like the satisfaction derived when India wins a cricket match.
It sounds very simple, but this theory can explain everyone's actions...


I heard this tsunami story about a man who lost all his children in Nagapattinam and buried them in the same beach which had claimed them, with his own hands. Now he has adopted so many children orphaned by the same disaster, creating for them a home away from orphanages. His lost children will never come back to him, but bringing up these children will give him some solace. He derived lots of happiness from adopting those children. In this context happiness and satisfaction become indistinguishable.



For a politician, defeating his opponent gives him satisfaction. Power gives him satisfaction. For actors, fame gives satisfaction. When they sleep after seeing a resounding opening of their film, they sleep with a great satisfaction. I can go on like this giving numerous examples.

Decisions and circumstances are pivots around which revolves satisfaction. Sometimes you decide to do something or become something. Then after that decision, whatever satisfaction you derive is mostly due to yourself. It is like what I want I will get. More important is when circumstances land you in a position which you never thought of (or worse against your decision an aspirations) This is exemplified in the case of the tsunami incident. The great guy would have never thought that he would lose all his kids the next day. The circumstances presented themselves, but he managed to somehow find some happiness in the midst of so much gloom.

It calls for intelligence. It calls for perspective too. In the end it boils down to whether you are intelligent enough to find some satisfaction whatever the situation presents.

To end it, there are of course the extremes. Some never find satisfaction in whatever they do. Some set their satisfaction levels so low that they hardly do anything.

Evolution

Well people will say its nostalgia, but it isnt. Every stage of life has been really special. In retrospect, I think I enjoyed most of it, even though it was anything but bliss. There were so many trials and tribulations. Well being homeless suddenly at 19 is not a great prospect(1), nor is your landlord being a kleptomaniac(2). Living 10 days in a month without money was also not a great accomplishment(3). But when I look back now, I can only feel elated at how passion was my only guiding principle. Yeah, at last I can define myself, an animal driven by passion.

I scored only one perfect grade all through my undergrad. The passion never sustained throughout any course. Even today I lose, again passion doesnt last throughout the game.

The reason that I suddenly find myself with(passion), is a good one, mainly because it has explained all the dichotomies that exist in me, all the characteristics inexplicable to any person who has come in contact with me.

The kottur gardens link road is still vivid in my mind, with its treat korner. So is RK foods.

What distinguish my undergrad years from my other years, is thats when I was outside all influence. I was responsible for everything I did. And to most part I dint have to ask permission(4). Suddenly now at 3:22 AM, I yearn for those streets. In my life, I have never missed anything. Till now. Theres sudden discord between my wants and availability.

I have a sudden feeling of elation as I realise that I have witnessed evolution(5). Yes I have just realised that I have been for years seeing detectable changes in my intellect (without knowing it). Like a sponge slowly absorbing water, the more and more exposed I become, everyday interpretations assume a new meaning...

And yet I evolve....

______________________
1) The great hostel crisis : the warden wanted a select group of us outside the hostel for some absurd excuse
2)There is no verifiable proof for this
3) I dont blame my parents. They gave lots of money, but at the beggining of the month. What resulted was obvious splurge on food. Atleast I dint splurge on gaming (zap)
4) My parents have been the most ideal. They stopped taking decisions for me since the time i had to choose an undergrad course. They love me a lot and are really concerned about me, but let me live in a world in which they have no say.
5) I wouldnt define evolution as a change to the better, because better is always subjective.